The years of Admiral Bluewater did not absolutely forbid his regarding Mildred's extreme beauty, with the eyes of ordinary admiration; but his language, and most of all, his character, ought to repel the intrusive suspicion.

Still Mildred was surpassingly lovely, and men were surpassingly weak in matters of love.
Many a hero had passed a youth of self-command and discretion, to consummate some act of exceeding folly, of this very nature, in the decline of life; and bitter experience had taught her to be distrustful.
Nevertheless, she could not, at once, bring herself to think ill of one, whose character she had so long respected; and, with all the rear-admiral's directness of manner, there was so much real and feeling delicacy, blended with the breeding of a gentleman-like sailor, that it was not easy to suppose he had any other motives than those he saw fit to avow.

Mildred had made many a friend, by a sweetness of countenance, that was even more winning, than her general beauty of face and form was attractive; and why should not this respectable old seaman be of the number.
This train of thought was interrupted by the sudden and unwelcome appearance of Dutton.

He had just returned from the bed-side of Sir Wycherly, and now came to seek his wife and daughter, to bid them prepare to enter the chariot, which was in waiting to convey them home.
The miserable man was not intoxicated, in the sense which deprives a man of the use of speech and limbs; but he had drunk quite enough to awaken the demon within him, and to lay bare the secrets of his true character.
If any thing, his nerves were better strung than common; but the wine had stirred up all the energies of a being, whose resolutions seldom took the direction of correct feeling, or of right doing.

The darkness of the room, and a slight confusion which nevertheless existed in his brain, prevented him from noticing the person of his superior, seated, as the latter was, in the dark corner; and he believed himself once more alone with those who were so completely dependent on his mercy, and who had so long been the subjects of his brutality and tyranny.
"I hope Sir Wycherly is better, Dutton," the wife commenced, fearful that her husband might expose himself and her, before he was aware of the presence in which he stood.